Lion Head Mesa Well, the good guys don't always get the glory

oops this got long <3

a moment of paranoia bloomed in her chest.

wondering just where khaba thought these things needed to be said, or why. how he spoke of pharaoh in the open air was near treasonous, perhaps.

"He wishes to see you on the throne in his own way, not in yours. Anyone would be a fool not to see it."

she seethed in silence for a moment. unwilling to speak her paranoia into further existence. afraid that anything she might say might have a sudden burst of chain events. such an idea was not so far fetched. had it not been words that had thrusted her down the line of becoming crown prince?

he fueled her in all ways with his continued speaking.

"They will respect you because you earned it, not because he demanded it."

ugly thoughts surfaced, the same she had carried in her heart when her father had stole nazli away from her breast. some part of her wished to give a grand display of her power. to strike at the heart and seal her claim in a way that would guarantee it.

she thought of the roman, she thought of the roman's soldier who toiled in akashingo. she imagined it would be a mighty feat in and of itself to call upon the romans — for she knew germanicus was not a man of risk in these things. only she knew that the surely the roman liked her more than the sitting pharaoh.

her throat clenched with the ungodly, ugly thoughts. how easily she had slipped into thinking them should have been alarming in and of itself.

we will work to the bone today. she declared suddenly, allowing herself a moment to lean into the traveling form of khaba. if you must spar me till sundown, it should be. if we patrol the whole flatlands than deem it so. i must continue to toil as soldiers do until my paws bleed and my muscles weep.

until her strength was not a question, but a statement.